Collections of thoughts
by AllanaDancer
Summary: The 'What ifs' of Harry Potter. The secret yearnings. The private dreams. The hidden feelings. The forgotten characters. The missing pieces. The memories and discoveries and realizations of the Lost people from the Magical World.
1. One

**Hello! These are my stories, "Collections of thoughts.**

***Summary- The what if's of Harry Potter. The secret yearnings. The private dreams. The hidden feelings. The forgotten characters. The other sides. The missing pieces. The manipulations. The Contemplations, mopes, memories, revelations, discoveries, and Realizations from the lost people of the Magical world. **  
**Remember, I'm Pretty much MAD; so expect the very craziest of story lines.**

***AN: Random Drabbles and Babbles. I've had many-cluttered Harry Potter one shots and have decided to empty my mind to be read by you Harry Potter fans. Hope you enjoy and interpret what you will. Review me your thoughts of my thoughts. :) UPDATE: _The formating was really screwed up so I'm reposting it, hopefully all fixed up, and maybe I'll get some nice reviews once people can actually read it!_**

***WARNING: The first couple chapters are going to consist of this; SADNESS, GORE, HOPELESSNESS, DARKNESS, SELF-HATE, AND RAGE. I'm writing the sad and angry ones first. DO NOT READ if you do not enjoy stories like this, I'm writing them to vent about my own life through theirs. If you do not want to read things with such a heavy mood then do not read this story. However, if you do read and like these sorts of stories read on. If one is a bit much, feel free to review. You have been warned. (Always wanted to say that…:)**

***Rating: M for various descriptions of pain, violence, anger, and sadness. Later chapters of happiness may include sexual situations.**

**-If people actually like this story then five reviews a day means an instant update (Unless I am otherwise engaged, beleive it or not I have recently acquired a LIFE! XD)**  
**-Here's the format of these stories; These are really short one-shots. There will be three in each chapter and they describe situations and feelings of people from various points of view. Through out the story you will be left to figure out who each person is and at the end their name will be revealed. Sometimes they will be hard to guess and sometimes easy. Now remember, these are just some of my interpertations of the story. They will not always stay true to the original text so I would appreciate it if I do not get reviews around the lines of 'That never happened, that would never happen, you're Ruining Harry Potter, ext.' some of my favorite stories on this site that have inspired this one have gotten some harsh reviews similar to the above and I am really scared to get the same! Please keep that in mind and I hope you enjoy nonetheless.**

* * *

**_-The sweet temptations of a self-proclaimed Monster-_**

He sat under his desk. He did this a lot, as if somehow the Potion wouldn't work. As if, if it didn't, the desk would somehow save him from himself. He feared for his mind to get lost in the dark swirling of the monster who itched to come out. He should know better.  
He should a lot of things. But he didn't, doesn't, isn't, won't, can't, did, does, is, will, can, could.  
He should be in his room but he can't bring himself to. He should trust his potion but he won't when so much could go wrong. He should have stayed at Hogwarts but he didn't when the risk of creating roots was so strong. He should be doing more to help with the Order of the Phoenix but he isn't. He shouldn't have fallen in love...but he did.  
And he'd always have to live with that. Because not only did he fall in love but she fell in love back.  
And now everything was falling  
apart.  
Ah, how sweet it would be to give in to temptation. To love and let love. To drown himself in the glory of his desire.  
But he couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't, won't.  
'Cause Remus Lupin, the self-hated man hiding under his desk and praying it wouldn't happen tonight, was a Monster doomed for misery and failure and he shouldn't let himself drag his beautiful Tonks down with him.  
He shouldn't...but he did. And nobody knew that better than him as he watched her die.

* * *

_**-Welcoming cheers of doom-**_

The silently crying figure, obscured by flickering shadows, huddled under dark green sheets.  
He tried not to ever sleep. He already looked like an un-kept corpse so it wasn't like he needed to worry about his slowly deteriorating appearance.  
What he needed to worry about was the fact that although he was perfectly able to stay awake he couldn't escape the feeling of extreme drousiness. So, of course, every now and again, he'd have to give in the his exaustion.  
Which was not an easy task. He may be tired, but as it's said above he had no problem staying awake. Which meant he did have a problem not staying awake. He'd lay...and lay...and lay...and sleep wouldn't come.  
Fear is what kept it away. Fear of Nightmares. Fear of memories clearly represented in the nightmares.  
Thankfully, no matter how strong the fear, sleep eventually, would come knocking. What else to do but politely answer the door and hope it isn't some mad-man with a wand in his hand and a curse on his lips?  
He dreamt, as always, of unpleasant things.  
It started out as yelling. He immediately recognized his Mother and Father's voices. They were arguing, as usual. He stayed in a corner, crouching on the dusty wooden floor and hoping his Father didn't enter to vent anger on his small back.  
It was there that the floor suddenly began to shake. A hole appeared and began to eat away at the floor, quickly growing. He screamed as he soon found himself sitting on a round piece of floor, the hole surrounding him like he was an island and it was water. He jumped up yelling louder in horror as the flames licked up like a monster ready to devour him.  
Then his parents were in the room, in front of him. He reached out for help as the floor began to shake again but they shook their heads.  
Then a group of people appeared next to his parents, a group of school mates. He reached for them but they beckoned for him ignoring his outstretched hands. They began to point and laugh.  
Someone else appeared, someone pale with snake-slitted eyes. He reached out to the frightning person, desperate for any sort of recognition, but the bald head shook with the answer 'no'. The thin slits looked amused.  
Another figure appeared in the room, A tall figure with twinkling eyes in contrast to who they stood next to. He reached out to that new person but he too shook his head, silvery beard swaying.  
Soon the room filled up with people, Teachers, acquaintances, friends and foes, people he'd glanced at on the street, the man who sold fish at the Market. They all shook their head at his pleading cries and outstretched hands.  
The floor shook again and he fell unable to stay standing without the help of the people around him.  
Then he was burning. He couldn't see and the smoke burnt his nostrils as he coughed trying to breath. It hurt and he screamed out smelling his own chared flesh.  
That's when Lily would arrive. A shadowy figure in bright red with a lion's head that had green-green eyes. She was like a feirce Angel sent to save him from the flames. He'd always smile.  
Then the scene would change, he was a little boy again walking up to the sorting hat. The hat was placed on his head and it covered his eyes, it was dark and he tried to lift the hat but it wouldn't bulge.  
_Slytherin, eh? You want Slytherin do ye' boy? Want to know everything don't ye'...even the dark stuff. Ye' want power, do ye'? Want to escape ye' troubles with magic?'_ Part of him wanted to say  
_'Yes! Of course!'_ But a dull throb of dread kept him from doing so. He stared into the darkness that slowly faded.  
He was lying on his back, staring up at green leaves as they shook in the wind. He turned and saw Lily her eyes as green as the leaves he stared at moments ago. Joy overwhelmed him and he sat up, spreading his arms ready to hug her. But suddenly the forest darkened.  
A group of people appeared behind him, Lily screamed. They pointed at her. The pale person with slitted eyes pushed him forward toward her. Her gazed moved to him, staring at him in fear and hatred. He raised his arm, then looked down in suprise as it moved.  
He gasped, his arm wasn't his. It was pale gray and leathery and holding a wand that was not his. He tried to stop it's movements but he couldn't, he was frozen.  
The wand pointed to Lily. He got one last glance at her furious and betrayed expression before a flash of green light blinded him and her body fell to the ground.  
He shook his head, backing away. No! Not Lily.  
_'I don't understand!' _He screamed staring at the mass of red curls surrounding his dead love's head.  
_'Don't you remember?' _Hissed a voice _'Let this remind you.'_ The voice responded.  
Then he was in a dark and shadowy room as a pale figure in dark robes glided toward him. His hair was dark and his suprisingly young face was contorted in a mixture of rage and malice overshadowed by a excited glow.  
_'Raise your arm.'_ he hissed as he raised his wand. He obeyed, he could feel a sneering smile on his face but it was like it was glued there. Like the body he was occupying was a body that was smiling but he himself, trapped deep inside, was screaming that this wasn't what he really wanted. The wand lowered to his arm and he couldn't help wincing as a searing pain swallowed his arm. And then things went blurry.  
He was home and his mother was clutching him sobbing. He didn't understand.  
_'How could you! How could you do this. My son!...' _Why is she so upset? He wondered as he also wondered why she was even paying attention to him in the first place and then he looked down and saw the dark mark of a snake burned into his flesh forever. A mark of his fear and shame. His biggest regret.  
Then he was in the flames again, he waited, trying not to scream, for Lily to arrive.  
She did as always. He watched as she reached out, but then she stopped. He followed her gaze to his arm.  
_'No!'_ He shouted. _'No...it's not...I.._.' but no amount of excuses could explain. Another figure apeared, another lion that wore round glasses and who's mane was ruffled. It was a handsome lion that was rich and well groomed and talented and popular with perfect parents and a bright future. The new lion figure smirked at him as he took Lily away on his broom that had a poster that said '_Just married'_ like on the back of muggle's cars.  
Then he was in the woods again and he was running holding a snake in his arms and trying to protect it. He tripped and then he was slithering. He was scared and ashamed, hurrying from something but from what he did not know. Suddenly he realized he was a snake, and that surprised him slowing him. He was caught. He recoiled backing against a tree. There was a huge lion in front of him with green green eyes and it glowed with a golden-red glow. He knew it was Harry Potter. A voice boomed out of the lions mouth  
'_You chose this! You chose a house of Evil...and now that's what you are.'_  
It went dark again and the booming voice changed to the Sorting Hat's voice. He squeezed his eyes shut against the darkness but green flashes played across his closed eyelids seeming like they'd never end.  
_'This is what ye' wanted isn't it?' _He couldn't answer before Sorting Hat yelled, _'Slytherin!'_ The patched thing was lifted off his head and the darkness left. He stared at the Great Hall in front of him that held not it's usual golden glow but instead was dim with flashes of green lighting it.  
To one side sat the Griffindor table, on the end closest to him three great lions and a man with a silvery beard. He didn't look at them, he turned his gaze to the Slytherin table as cheers erupted.  
There, in the middle, sat The Dark Lord, his arms outstretched, encouraging him over as the cheers got louder, welcoming him to his doom.  
Severus Snape always woke up screaming knowing that the dream was his burning reality.

* * *

_**-Within the depths of numb pain-**_

Excruciating agony.  
Wave after wave. Her spine rigid, fingers clutching at the rug she lay on.  
It felt like fire and ice and needles and knifes and teeth and claws and hammers and drills and thorns and glass. It felt like each hair on her body was torn out. Like each fingernail ripped. Like each bone slowly crack until it broke and then rotated rubbing against the rest and braking them too. It felt like ach musscle stretched until it tore. It felt like her skin melted. Like acid was poured down her throat and in her eyes and ears. Like each tooth was pulled. Like she was slammed under a car smasher. Like each limb was slowly sawn off. Like getting hit by a train. Like drownding.  
Strength was lost. She begged for mercy forgetting that she was a woman of pride and honor. She just wanted it to stop. It was torture.  
But it didn't stop and she vaguely heard from within the depths of her agony, that word, that word that was repeated again and again.  
_'Crucio!' _The voice was high and husky. Rough and full of evil malice. It sounded like metallic in her bleeding ears. And still the pain continued.  
It burned through her veins swallowing everything else.  
She forgot who she was. It was sucked away. Like everything in her was pulled out and thrown away and she didn't even have the energy to watch it go. She forgot what she was fighting for. She forgot those she loved. She forgot she was a human, forgot that there was such a thing as something other than this pain.  
Eventually her body went limp, her screams stopped. She couldn't move or speak or see but she did not know that that wasn't the way things were  
supposed to be.  
She felt like she was floating on a misty cloud she had no idea how long she'd been like that. The confuision hurt less so she didn't push it away. She held no concept of time. She didn't think, remember, or dream. She didn't know she had a body. She couldn't really feel. Once in awhile she'd forget to breathe. She could sometimes hear strange noises, they sounded muffled yet echo-y. Far but also close. She could see faded bursts of dull colors and fuzzy shapes.  
Alice Longbottom didn't know years had passed since the agony she'd endured and that her son, Nevile, was shaking her begging her to please come back to him.  


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**Comments? Suggestions? Praise? Thoughts? Enter the magical world of sharing by pressing that little button down there that says, "REVIEW!" and I will forever love you. **


	2. Two

**Hello! These are my stories, "Collections of thoughts.**

***Summary- The what ifs of Harry Potter. The secret yearnings. The private dreams. The hidden feelings. The forgotten characters. The other sides. The missing pieces. The manipulations. The Contemplations, mopes, memories, revelations, discoveries, and Realizations from the lost people of the Magical world.**

**Remember, I'm Pretty much MAD; so expect the very craziest of story lines.**

***AN: Random Drabbles and Babbles. I've had many-cluttered Harry Potter one shots and have decided to empty my mind to be read by you Harry Potter fans. Hope you enjoy and interpret what you will. Review me your thoughts of my thoughts. :) I will be so happy with even an "I like this story!" It'll make my day…don't you want to make my day?**

***Rating: M for various descriptions of pain, violence, anger, and sadness. Later chapters of happiness may include sexual situations.**

**Disclaimer: Really? Don't they know how painful it is to write these words? Do they like to taunt me? Ugh. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own ideas original work of the brilliant JK or the makers of the beautiful Harry Potter films. I do not own any of the fantastic characters, nor do I own plot from the original text. I am not making any money off this work. I am poor and talent less with a slow imagination. I will never make it as a writer and must satisfy myself by posting on a Fanfiction site. Just spit in my face why don't you.**

**

* * *

_-The abandoned Weirdo-_**

Different. What kind of a word was that anyway? Different?  
She often wondered in times like these- snuggled deep in her feather comforter preparing herself to be made fun of by those she didn't give a damn about and ignored by those she cared about- why being 'different' was such a bad thing as everyone often pointed out to her. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter as the many voices, faded with memory, echoed through her head- You are so different, unusual, strange. Why are you so weird? Oh, look, it's her! She's loony, wacko, odd, queer, silly, and stupid. Stay away from her! She is _so_ freaky. All had been used to describe her. And again she wondered; what about being different was so bad?  
Of course, just because she wondered why doesn't mean she hadn't like it, that she hadn't_ thrived_ on it. Being different was her wall. Her barrier. Her protection and defense. It kept her safe.  
She could do whatever she wanted, say whatever she wanted and nobody would look at her twice because that's just the way she was. Different. Nobody ever had high expectations of her and therefor she never dissapointed anyone...except herself.  
Sure, the wall of her unusualness kept out friendly companionship as well as anyone who could hurt her. But she has always thought it was worth it. _Thought._  
Becoming a part of 'Dumbledore's army' was the turning point in her life. She had friends, friends who cared about her despite her weirdness. Her walls crumpled and she was able to inspect herself without the barrier for the first time in years. And she found a lonely girl who had just as many odd quirks as the girl inside the wall. She let herself go and grow to be so much more than she had ever expected herself to be.  
And it was loony. Truly loony. Not loony like wackspurts, nargles, blibbering humdingers, gulping plimpies, umgubular slashkilters, heliopaths, and moon frogs but loony like stupid. Because it was stupid. Stupid to let herself fall into something that wasn't ever really going anywhere.  
She got up, turning her alarm off with a twitch of the wrist. She slowly got ready, putting on in her robes. She didn't bother searching for her shoes- she knew they wouldn't be there. She then picked up her bag and then glanced at herself in the mirror.  
Her brownish blonde curls fell to her elbows. Radish earrings hung next to her pale face and behind her ears her wand was stored. Around her neck a butterbeer cork necklace lay. Her face held the blank, dreamily distant look she'd worn for years but her silver-gray eyes were strained and sad. Lonely. Abandoned. Forgotten. Used. She sighed. It really had been stupid, letting her guard down like that.  
'Cause when it came down to it, after everything was said and done, when the bruises and cuts and nightmares of their battle at the Ministry of Magic had finally faded, Luna Lovegood was still just a pawn in Harry Potter and He-who-must-not-be-name's war.

* * *

_**-Longing to utter from sneering lips-**_

He walked briskly his dark hair swaying in time with his pace ignoring the annoying small girl next to him who insisted on following him like a lost puppy.

"Why are you even going? He's your family sort of why should you kill him?" She hissed.

That made him stop short and his short mood turned livid at the girls intruding question.

"I did not invite you, you wished to come. I do not need to explain anything to you. " His harsh words hurt the shadow-like witch who winced. But her pain was lost on the dark haired boy- he had no concept of caring about other people's feelings. Besides, he didn't particularly care that she was here. It was nice to already have followers. At the very least, should he be caught, he could say the girl had cursed him, kiddnapped him, and forced him to kill the strange man. Her reputation was a lot worse than his and he knew without a doubt he could convince anyone he was innocent. He smirked as he thought of his handsome face. Let's just call it a perk.

They arrived at his destination. He briskly strolled to the door that had a snake nailed to it. _Tacky_. He thought as he knocked.

A bloke opened the door,

"And your name is?" The handsome boy glared up at the inquiring man with faded eyes in raggedy gray clothes that hung loose on his thin frame. He didn't need to answer this pathetic scum who dared to be considered a 'man', who was the root responsible for his life of misery.

Misery that made him who he was today. Misery that prevented him from saying his nasty name.

Besides the words tasted bad in his mouth for his name was a name as common as dirt. He was above such trivial things as birth-names by birth parents that were no more than weak failures.

He longed for the day when his answer would be different- when the triumphant words 'Lord Voldemort' could be uttered from his sneering lips, sneering lips that looked straight into his grandfathers eyes and said, barely more than a whisper_, "Avada Kedavra"._

_

* * *

_  
_**-The moment of yellow he gave in all of the gray-**_

She'd known she'd wanted to stay and fight by Harry Potter's side since she was twelve years old.  
But now, five years later while lying on the dusty dirty floor, the realization of her decision finally hit her- she was fighting, against a far more powerful force. She had no home. People were out to get her and her friends, maybe even her family. She was on the run, on the run on a goose's chase. And she was scared.  
Finally, six years of stress, hit her in one violent burst of an overwhelming wave.  
She had prepared, studied and worked for this very time. But suddenly she wasn't thinking about all that she knew but all that she didn't.  
She thought back to the Hogwarts library where she had been collecting books that she thought had information they'd need. Then she remembered there was one book she had put back as an afterthought. Now, remembering, she panicked. What if that was the book? The book with vital information? That book she should have gotten because it was the book that could save their lives.  
Then she started remembering her Hogwarts days. The long brick hallways with endless possibilities. The warm, cozy classrooms that smelled like knowledge. The cheerful, historical, paintings lining the walls. The sweet and earthy smell of the green grounds. The way the sun would shine through the canopy of her four-poster every morning. The crackling fire in the homey red and golden common room. Everything there was so yellow...so warm. Here everything was gray and cold.  
She thought of her friends and teachers. The mouth-watering smell of the Great Hall at mealtime. The look of blank white parchment just waiting to be filled with sharp black words of wisdom.  
She thought of those who'd already been lost. She thought of those to come.  
She hated this. She needed a plan. She needed a strategy written out in front of her. She needed it to be clever, logical, organized, practical and most of all she needed it work against this impossible enemy.  
She tried to hold the choked sob in but it burst out.  
Next to her, the red-headed boy heard it. It was a strangled, pitiful, terrified, mourning sound that exactly expressed what he was feeing.  
Ron reached out through the dark and took Hermione's hand in his. And for a moment, everything was all right. Worries, fears, and grieving were forgotten as pale fingers intertwined pale fingers.  
They weren't sure of the future, but it didn't matter because they were sure of the present. And at that present they had each other and for one night everything was better.  
They fell asleep like that, where the next morning Harry Potter would wake up and lonelily-wonder if they had been holding hands.

* * *

**I reeeeeeeally hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. I went so _out_ of character with the first one (though I suppose it'd possible for Luna to have felt like that), that I decided to be ridiculously _in_ character with the last two. I hope I did okay and as always review! **


	3. Thee

**Hello! These are my stories, "Collections of thoughts.**

***Summary- The what if's of Harry Potter. The secret yearnings. The private dreams. The hidden feelings. The forgotten characters. The other sides. The missing pieces. The manipulations. The Contemplations, mopes, memories, revelations, discoveries, and Realizations from the lost people of the Magical world. **  
**Remember, I'm Pretty much MAD; so expect the very craziest of story lines.**

***AN: Random Drabbles and Babbles. I've had many-cluttered Harry Potter one shots and have decided to empty my mind to be read by you Harry Potter fans. Hope you enjoy and interpret what you will. Review me your thoughts of my thoughts. :) UPDATE: **_**The formating was really screwed up so I'm reposting it, hopefully all fixed up, and maybe I'll get some nice reviews once people can actually read it!**_

***WARNING: The first couple chapters are going to consist of this; SADNESS, GORE, HOPELESSNESS, DARKNESS, SELF-HATE, AND RAGE. I'm writing the sad and angry ones first. DO NOT READ if you do not enjoy stories like this, I'm writing them to vent about my own life through theirs. If you do not want to read things with such a heavy mood then do not read this story. However, if you do read and like these sorts of stories read on. If one is a bit much, feel free to review. You have been warned. (Always wanted to say that…:)**

***Rating: M for various descriptions of pain, violence, anger, and sadness. Later chapters of happiness may include sexual situations.**

**-If people actually like this story then five reviews a day means an instant update (Unless I am otherwise engaged, beleive it or not I have recently acquired a LIFE! XD)**  
**-Here's the format of these stories; These are really short one-shots. There will be three in each chapter and they describe situations and feelings of people from various points of view. Through out the story you will be left to figure out who each person is and at the end their name will be revealed. Sometimes they will be hard to guess and sometimes easy. Now remember, these are just some of my interpertations of the story. They will not always stay true to the original text so I would appreciate it if I do not get reviews around the lines of 'That never happened, that would never happen, you're Ruining Harry Potter, ext.' some of my favorite stories on this site that have inspired this one have gotten some harsh reviews similar to the above and I am really scared to get the same! Please keep that in mind and I hope you enjoy nonetheless.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter :"( **

**

* * *

**_-**Tears in another's name-**_

Her silhouette was hunched over, wavering and flickering on the brick wall across from her. She sucked air in nosily and shuddered. She was crying again. It wasn't unusual, to be honest. She always cried. The only difference was this time she had someone to cry with...or he had someone to cry with. After all he had come to her. He had been crying and this time she was crying because he was. Because he was just so sad. And yes, she was too. More than sad she was miserable. She hated everything about this place and all that held her here, but she was sad over very clear and simple things. She was sad because she never got a chance. Because she was dead. Because children were cruel towards her. But his sadness was so much more complicated. He sat below her his back pressed against the sink as he pushed his face into his knees and clutched his pants with white knuckles. His scream was muffled and choked with the mixed emotions that were angrily swirling deep inside him. He was the boy dragged into all this. He was the boy who had to follow orders. Who was loosing his parents. Who was being pressured, accused, blamed, and sought after. He was the boy who was angry and scared and guilty. The candles flickered and you could see it through her translucent face. She hiccupped and then cried harder, her sorrowful moans echoing around the room similar to those that had earned her her nickname. Moaning Myrtle floated away from Draco Malfoy, her would-be tears refusing to slip from her long dead eyes.

* * *

_**-Old man's weakness coming through-**_

The man stood with his back to the mirror. He was in a small room that was empty with concrete-like gray floors and walls. It was sharp and cold in the dim room and his clear blue eyes looked down at the rays of moonlight that shone on the floor from the window across from him. His withered, pale hands clenched and unclenched as he tried to breathe steadily. He shouldn't be here! It was ridiculous, he was not only a grown man but an old man and he should know better. Shouldn't he be past the temptation of his sorrowful desires? He was quite literally a genius and many admired and idolized him. But on this night as his seemingly slight frame shook and his eyes squinted to keep away the tears he was weak. And in full knowledge of that weakness Albus Dumbledore turned around and faced the mirror that held the oh so sweet images of all he'd ever really wanted.

* * *

_**-She who was his one Requirement-**_

Harsh footsteps echoed through the halls as he tried to keep his composure. Inside he was dying. The Dark Lord was back and all he could think about was getting back to...His pace quickened as he sped toward the door, a ghost of a smile briefly flickering its way across his usually stiff face. Now wasn't the time to be smiling. He should be scared and worried thinking of a plan. He should be bent over double crying at the burning in his arm. But he wasn't. He loved this room...no it was more than a room. It was a world. His world, a world he wished he never had to leave. He opened the door eagerly, or as eagerly. His lonely eyes gazed gratefully on the sight in front of him like a starving man's stare toward a feast. He was in a room with deep mahogany floors that were speckled with colorfully woven rugs. There were comforting green curtains falling in waves from the ceiling and showing glimpses of warm yellow walls. A brass window stretched across the farthest wall with a spectacular view of the lake and the mountains. A huge and rather plump and soft looking loveseat sat in front of the window next to a large bookcase. Diagonally to the loveseat was flickering fire and as he watched a table appeared that held two mugs of butterbeer. Instantly he felt his shoulders relax, felt his expression become less guarded as his eyes softened and a true smile lit his sharp features. He turned and she was there her fresh lilac scent enveloping him as slender arms wrapped around him. He breathed her in, eyes closed, fingers sifting through her silkily crimson locks. This was his world in this room, the only place he was happy. Because this was the Room of Requirement and all Severus Snape ever really required was Lily Evans…so that was what it gave him.


End file.
